


The Green (And Red And White And Blue) Monster

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Jealous Tony, M/M, Marking, Peter's just marking his property, Scratches and Marks, Smut, Tony gets jealous over Captain America pants, thigh-fucking, two possessive boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: anon on tumblr asked: 'imagine peter walking around stark tower with a pair of captain America sweats on and he doesn’t mean anything by it but by the end of the night Tony is bitter and frustrated and he ends up ripping the pants off and getting all possessive and angry over him' so I obliged, imagined, and wrote a thing





	The Green (And Red And White And Blue) Monster

“Incoming call from Mr. Parker, sir,” FRIDAY announces, the volume of the music in the lab lowered as the staticky voice of the AI comes through the speakers.

“Patch it through, doll,” Tony mumbles around the wrench in his mouth, sliding out from underneath the car and moving over to his desk.

“Hey, daddy!” Peter’s voice echoes in the lab through the speakers, and Tony can’t help the smile that works its way onto his face.

“Hey, yourself, baby boy. You still at school?”

“Nope, just made it into the penthouse.”

“You comin’ down here?”

“Nope,” Peter chirps. “I stayed after class, finished up my homework in the library.”

“I still gotta little more work to do. You wanna come down here, keep me company?”

“How about I get dinner started while you finish up? Then you can come help me? It’s been a while since we’ve cooked together,” Peter suggests sweetly, and Tony nearly melts into a puddle on the floor.

“Sounds like a plan, gorgeous. I’ll be up as soon as I can.”

“Okie, see you! Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

**

“What the fuck are those?”

Tony pauses in the doorway, watching Peter whirl around, dropping the measuring cup in his hands in the sink. “Jesus, _fuck_ Tony, you scared me,” Peter breathes, hand on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Tony offers, walking over to his boyfriend, wrapping the boy up in his arms and placing a kiss on his head, and Peter nods his acceptance. “But what the _fuck_ are those?”

Peter pulls away, looking down at his legs. “What, these?”

“Yeah,” Tony responds, eyes fixated on Peter’s legs.

“They’re Captain America pants,” says Peter, slowly, enunciating each syllable for emphasis, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I can see that. Why are you _wearing_ them? Better yet, who the fuck even bought them for you?”

“Sam did.” Peter turns away, bending over to pull the lasagna out of the oven, and Tony’s torn between admiring the boy’s gorgeous ass and seething over the fact that it’s covered with Rogers’ stupid dinner plate. “He saw I had the Iron Man ones, bought me the entire Avengers set for my birthday. Never got around to wearing any of them, but yours were in the wash and they’re comfy,” Peter shrugs. “So here we are.”

Tony grunts an acknowledgement, turning to the sink to wash his hands as Peter starts pouring some pasta onto his plate. He sits at the table, arching into the boy’s touch when Peter starts massaging his shoulders. “Aren’t you gonna eat, baby?”

“I already ate, daddy, you were taking so long and I was hungry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry for taking so long.” Tony hums as he shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth, groaning at both the taste and the way Peter’s working out a knot in his shoulder. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby boy.”

“What? The pasta, or the massage?” Peter asks cheekily, and Tony can hear the smile in his voice.

“Either or. Both. Everything about you,” Tony says, tilting his face up, smiling when Peter leans down to peck his lips.

“Finish your food, old man,” and Tony doesn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed when his cock noticeably twitches in his sweatpants, and Peter bursts out laughing.

Once he’s finished, Tony offers to clean up while Peter picks a movie, rolling his shoulders back as he washes the dishes, feeling ten times looser. He finishes putting away the dishes, drying his hands before making his way to the living room, once again forced to a stop in the doorway when he sees Peter bent over the center console, poking at something, numerous renditions of Captain America’s dinner plate pulled tight over the swell of his ass like some kind of mark, and Tony _hates_ it. He’s about to stay something when the doorbell rings, and Tony frowns.

“Captain Rogers is at the door, sir,” and Peter bounces up, already hurrying towards the entrance.

“I’ll get it! I wanna ask what he thinks about the pants!”

 _Of course he’s gonna_ love _‘em_ , Tony wants to say, _love ‘em like I do when you’re wearin’ my pants. And by that I mean he’s gonna get hard. Fuckin’ Captain America, goldey boy_ Steve Rogers _is gonna get hard over_ my _boyfriend_ _wearing_ his _clothes_.

By the time Tony gets to the door, Peter already has it swung wide open, and he gets there just in time to watch Steve give his boy a slow once over, eyes lingering on his legs far longer than Tony likes, darkening with something that looks suspiciously like arousal, and then he overhears the smug _I like your pants, doll_ , and fuck it, Tony’s had enough.

“Wish I could say it’s good to see you, Rogers, but I’d be lying because we were kinda in the middle of something, so if you could come back, that’d be great, thanks. Actually, it would be even better if you didn’t.” Tony slams the door shut on Steve’s surprised face before he can get a word in edgewise, grabbing Peter by the waist and spinning him around, pressing him up against the wall next to the doorway, hands on either side of his head. He leans in close, taking in Peter’s wide eyes, shallow breathing, flushed cheeks. They stand in a tenuous silence, nothing filling the space between them but the harsh sounds of each other’s breathing.

The silence is broken when Peter throws his head back, back arching as he fucks his hips forward, grinding against Tony’s rapidly hardening cock, gasping wetly. “ _Fuck_ , daddy, you’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.”

Tony growls, leaning even further into Peter’s space, noses brushing against one another’s. “What makes you think I’m jealous, baby boy?”

“You haven’t taken your eyes off the pants for more than a second at a time,” Peter whispers, smirking, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds shamelessly against Tony’s front. “If you’re not jealous, then what are you?”

Tony kisses him in lieu of an answer, mouth slamming down viciously against Peter’s. He traces Peter’s bottom lip with his tongue before biting down, licking into the boy’s mouth when he opens up beneath him.

“What the fuck else do you expect from me,” Tony pants when he pulls away, “when you walk around with Rogers plastered all over your ass?”

“It’s his shield,” Peter points out, breathing no better than Tony’s “Not him.”

“Might as well be,” Tony grunts, leaning in and capturing the boy’s mouth again, sliding his hands down Peter’s legs, encouraging him to jump.

Peter does, wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist, and Tony presses him firmer against the wall, hips thrusting forward of their own accord. Peter chokes out a moan that gets swallowed by Tony’s mouth, whose hands drift restlessly over Peter’s ass. Peter pulls away, greedily sucking in air while Tony’s lips attach themselves to his neck, tongue laving over a particularly sensitive spot for just a second before he’s biting down, and Peter’s head rolls to the side. “If it bothers you so much,” Peter snarks, nibbling on his lower lip, “what’re you gonna do about it?”

Tony’s fingers dig into the cloth at Peter’s goading, both of them taken by surprise when the flimsy fabric tears under his grip. Tony shudders when Peter’s fingers tighten on his back, scrabbling for purchase, scraping his skin through the thin cotton. Peter drops his head into the crook of Tony’s neck, rutting against the cut of Tony’s abs once, twice before he’s soaking them with come, breathless whimpers muffled against skin.

“Shit, princess, what got you so worked up? You like making daddy jealous? Need me to remind you who this pretty ass belongs to?” The words are gravelly, pitched low, growled against Peter’s ear, making him shiver in Tony’s arms. Tony shifts his right arm, using it to support most of Peter’s – albeit nearly nonexistent – weight, undoing the tie on his sweats with his left. He spits in his hand before gripping his cock, slicking it up and sliding it between Peter’s cheeks through the hole in the boy’s pants.

Tony slides his hands down, gripping Peter’s hips tight before beginning to thrust, jerking him back and forth like a rag doll. Peter’s arms slip from around the older man to his biceps, nails raking down the muscle as he holds on for the ride. Tony grunts into his hair, relishing in the oversensitive whines that spill from Peter’s mouth, every thrust of Tony’s hips has the head of his cock catching against the boy’s sensitive rim. He’s enough on edge that it doesn’t take long, only a few thrusts and he’s painting his boyfriend’s ass white, shaking in his hold.

“You should get jealous more often.”

“You should _make_ me jealous more often, sweetheart. God knows when it comes to you it doesn’t take much.”

**

“Woooo!”

Tony blinks, flustered at the shout that comes from behind him as Bucky and Sam walk into the kitchen, both shirtless and sweaty from their morning run. “Where’s the fire?” Tony grumbles, blinking forlornly in the direction of the coffee machine that’s currently withholding the magic liquid that he needs to survive the other couple’s ‘morning people’ aesthetic.

“Looks like it’s on your back, Stark,” Bucky quips, sliding past Tony to the sink.

“Yeah, like you got mauled by an alley cat,” Sam observes, side eyeing Peter, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Or a spider.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Peter exclaims, throwing a bagels at Sam’s head, who dodges it, clinging on to Bucky as the two laugh their way out of the kitchen. Tony finally looks at the boy to see he’s a bright red, clearly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry about the marks, Tony.”

“Don’t worry about it baby,” Tony assures, pressing a kiss to Peter’s hair as he walks past, heading out of the kitchen. “You should mark me up more often.”

**Author's Note:**

> [@starkerchemistryy](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/starkerchemistryy)on tumblr, come say hi! :)


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